Let's play chess; I'll go first and sacrifice everything. You keep the rest; quench my thirst, then keep on forgetting.

Slither and stomp to the rhythm you've been given. If it's a living omen, you're in luck; it can still be hidden. Posture and pomp fall away in all my visions. I have no way to hold them; it's subtraction by addition.

Track Name: Seagrass

Only you break me down, make me new, leave me bound to what I want like a fool, playing nonchalant like I'm back in school.

Come around; you're always connected. It's a crown; you're always protected. I made it out of seagrass on a driftwood frame. I wore it myself since I didn't have a name.

Track Name: Light Me

I took your picture. My pulse was a bluebird's. The shame is a fixture, the pattern of a new word. An animal goes lightly. The secret history goes unwritten. To get me going, light me. I'd do the same in your position.

Track Name: Taste

Is it worth it: the worship and the forfeit, for the chance to live forever as a misfit, the taste of control, of letting everything go in the long-promised land of tomorrow?

Don't you know that you knew it? It was simple to start but you just can't quit. Tourniquet your bleeding heart--staying alive is a martial art. First come apart to reassemble. What we are and what we resemble will never align with the holy writ--heart and mind from a starter kit.

Track Name: Input

Do you assist the storm and the season to the edge of distraction, in command of reason? Does it corrupt, define, or uplift, what you did for me? Would you take the fifth?

Am I a kiss away from a charity case? Do you deliver your soul (as devised) to my face?

What’s your input? I'm on the lookout for an outlook, but you knew I would be. I thought you understood. Leaving you left me shaken, but I knew I could.

Track Name: Robot

Broke with the past, as asked, imagining the last gasp of a robot in a gas mask.

Watch out, there’s a way built for a purpose, intended to hurt us. We can all be friends if you’re willing to pay.

Track Name: Alpine

Make amends for all that you’ve done because your feet are in the fire and you’ve been handed a gun. Okay, I lied: you’re on the pyre, not a favorite son. You could never purify her. It’s already begun. Just give up.

It’s my luck, I fell for the look and while I wandered alone I shot myself in the foot. It’s not a joke, it’s just unknown. I put myself on the hook, wrote a poem on a tombstone, and burned all my books. Oh, no, no.

I've got the alpine in mind, all the way above the tree line so we can see over the horizon, always see the sun rising.

Track Name: A Sign You Don't Find

It's a sign you don't find. It's a sign of the times. What's yours can be mine. Go ahead: play dead, fall behind, hit pause, rewind.